


You're a Naughty Rabbit, Louis

by sunsetmog



Series: You're a Rabbit, Louis [2]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Animal Play, Animal Transformation, Butt Plugs, Embarrassment, M/M, Rabbits, Relationship Negotiation, Small Penis, rabbit play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 07:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10635153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: There's a line, a fiercely drawn line where he's a tiny fluffy rabbit on one side and a fully grown adult the other. There's no space in the middle where the line blurs and his boyfriends treat him like both.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Um. I wrote the original story in this verse over two years ago and it turns out that I think about rabbit!Louis - on average - about once every two days. [This tumblr tag](http://magicalrocketships.tumblr.com/tagged/you're%20a%20rabbit%20louis) is proof that I continue to post pictures of rabbits and tiny snippets quite frequently. I would apologise, but I don't want to. I like it when Louis turns into a rabbit. 
> 
> ANYWAY. A lovely anon sent me a message asking if I'd ever considered the possibility that human!Louis might want to be treated a little bit like a rabbit too, and - not going to lie - this is something that I had thought about a lot, but never shared with anyone. I was quite fiercely certain that this would have a readership of exactly one (me), but I have been assured that there are a few people out there who would like to read this too. So: here we have it. _You're a Naughty Rabbit, Louis_. I've tagged it animal transformation because Louis spends a lot of time as a rabbit in this verse, but in this story it's only referred to. 
> 
> Thank you to **slowestdive** for their cheerleading, to **ferryboatpeak** for the beta (any remaining mistakes are completely my own!), and to those people who let me know that they'd quite like to read this.  <3

He carries it with him now, this little piece of both worlds that blurs a little in his chest, the lines fading between being who he is when he's like this - when he's human all the way through – and when he's a tiny, fluffy rabbit who gets to ask for what he needs without ever having to actually fucking articulate it. 

Sometimes he fucking aches with it. 

It creeps up on him unawares, like that moment where he wakes up and he doesn't remember whether he's going to be tiny enough to fit in the crook of Nick's arm or in Harry's lap, or if he's large enough to take up over half of their bed and let the other two grumble at him for starfishing. Or when he's hungry and for a moment he can't figure out if he wants a bowl of lettuce and hay or a massive burger and chips. 

But then there are the other moments where he knows perfectly well that he's human, that he's five feet nine inches high, and he doesn't want to eat lettuce or scent Harry and Nick until they smell just like him. But he wants the rest of it. He wants to be quiet and small and touched and stroked. He wants to curl up in the middle of their bed and have them pet him and run their fingers through his hair and touch him all over. There are moments where he misses the tail, wishes he could just—

He can't, though. There's a line, a fiercely drawn line where he's a tiny fluffy rabbit on one side and a fully grown adult the other. There's no space in the middle where the line blurs and his boyfriends treat him like both. 

There's no space in the middle where he can admit that some of the things, some of the moments he loves so much when he's a rabbit mean something different when he's a human. That the connotations shift and it stops being purely comfort and deeply held satisfaction in being touched and looked after. That it starts being something else, starts when his dick gets hard and stops somewhere else entirely. 

There's a moment, late one night, half way through a four pack of beer, that he goes online on his laptop and searches _rabbit tail butt plug_. He closes the window, drinks another beer, then opens it up again. There are weird sites out there, ones that sell pig tails and fox tails and it's fine, it's fine if people want that but he doesn't. He wants something different, something quieter and softer and less harsh. 

He finds it halfway down the next beer. _Soft fluffy bunny rabbit tail_ , the website says. _Available in white, pink, lilac, brown, and black. Small or medium plug sizes available, metal or silicone. Comes in its own soft velvet bag. Can be worn discreetly under clothing._

He buys two, a white medium metal plug and a pink silicone one. There are fluffy rabbit ears too, and a collar, but he just—he can't. It's enough that he's fucking bought a tail plug, and that he's only going to use it on days where he's going nowhere near either Nick or Harry. 

He shuts the lid of his computer, downs the rest of his beer, and goes into the bedroom to curl up under the covers and wank himself silly. 

~*~

Later on, when he's messily rubbed come into his stomach and his thighs because he likes being a mess and can't be bothered with either a tissue or a flannel, he reaches for the iPad charging by his bed, and orders both the collar with its little blue bell, and the fluffy ears. 

He's not going to use them. He's just, you know, going to have them to hand just in case. 

~*~

It's another ten days before he gets a night to himself at home with no disturbances. The packages had arrived at the end of last week, discreet white bags with no originator address or company name anywhere on them, and he'd hidden them in the sports bag stuffed at the bottom of the wardrobe and tried not to think too much about any of it. 

Except he can't. He thinks about them a lot, thinks about those blurred lines in the middle that he can't ever talk about, the space where he wants to be both, the little curve in time and humanity where he wants to be tiny and safe and quiet and looked after and fucking _human_ , where he wants to come when he's feeling soft and gentle and wordless on the inside, and he wishes, he _wishes_ he could tell this to either Nick or to Harry but there aren't the words even when he's not quiet. Nothing's out there that could help him describe it so that they'd understand. No way of telling it so that they'd think it was okay. 

It's hard enough being the third wheel, the afterthought that slipped in when the two of them were already fiercely established. It's hard enough that he spends – chooses to spend, now – half of his time with them as a tiny rabbit, without adding this to the mix too. This third strand to him, this blur in the middle where he wishes they'd make him come at the same time as stroking him and petting him and letting him feel like he's their pet. 

But if he can't find it with them, maybe he can find it by himself. 

He showers before he lets himself unwrap any of it, standing for way too long under the spray until his skin's pink and his mind isn't racing. When he's a rabbit he hates water, will go and hide under the sofa or behind a chair if there's even the chance of being dripped on, but it's just one more way that this feels different, like a distinct and different strand to both existing parts of his life. He washes his hair and lets the water run for ages afterwards, until he's not thinking so much about how stupid this is, how stupid and lonely and wrong and weird it is, but instead how he's ready for it. Ready for a little fluffy tail plug and maybe – if he wants it – the collar or the ears. He still can't get his head around the ears, even when he's turned the shower off and is towelling himself dry. Even when he's kneeling in the middle of the bed with the mirrored wardrobe door propped open at just the right angle that he can see himself. 

When he fingers himself open, kneeling up, watching himself in the mirror over his shoulder, the white fluffy tail on the bed next to him. 

He gets it then, though. They're stupid and they're nothing like his real ears when he's a rabbit, but he doesn't want to be that tiny, fluffy baby rabbit. He wants to be this. He wants to be human, and get to feel something different. He wants to be this separate version of himself that he's been trying so desperately to find.

Louis unwraps the ears and slides them on, a furry Alice band with white and pink ears that might look silly but make him feel something completely different. His dick is fat and hard and small, slick at the tip, but he doesn't let himself touch. Not yet. Maybe not ever. It's just—he's so fucked up. To want this. To need it. To have to hide it from his boyfriends. 

He slicks his fingers up then, pressing them inside of himself, unable to help the tiny little breaths he groans into the quiet of his bedroom. He fingers himself until he's sweating, until his chubbed-up dick is begging to be touched, and his neck's getting sore from the angle. If he does this again he might need another mirror. One he can look into to see the other angle. 

Louis wipes his hands on the sheet before adding a little lube to the plug. He doesn't want to get the tail messy, wants to keep the soft fluff just that – soft and fluffy. 

He slides it inside of him with a soft keening noise he wasn't even sure he could make before he makes it, and then drops down to his elbows. His dick brushes against the sheets and he can't help it, he makes that noise again, the one he's never made before, and shifts the angle a little so he can see himself in the mirror, all curled up with a fluffy white tail and furry pink and white ears and Louis there in the middle with dark eyes and a pink mouth. 

He slips a hand down then, in between his legs so that he can circle his dick with his fist, and he can see himself in the mirror, see his fluffy tail and the ears that don't seem so silly anymore. He can see his hand on his dick, and his mouth hanging a little open, and it's just… it's so, so wrong but it feels like scratching an itch. He's so hard, and he can be a rabbit and not be a real rabbit, and he can be like this, curled up and have ears and a tail and get to come too, and it's almost right, almost there, almost what he needs—

Louis comes, breathless and panting, all over his thighs and his hands and the curve of his stomach. He wipes his hand through his come, stroking it everywhere, making more of a mess until he's dirty with it, dirty with his own come, and he closes his eyes and rests his cheek against the pillow, and doesn't move. He's still all curled up, feet tucked up under him. 

When he opens his eyes he stares at the mirror for the longest time, at his ears and his fluffy tail and knows he can never, ever share any of this with Nick and Harry. 

This one time is going to have to be for him, and him alone. 

Afterwards, he puts the ears and the tails and the little collar with the bell back into the sports bag in his wardrobe, and swears he's never going to touch them again. 

~*~

Louis manages a fortnight until he has an afternoon at home and nothing to do. He lays on the sofa on his front with his jeans pulled down to his hips and the pink fluffy tail plugging his arse. He wanks quickly and without much thought to it, coming into his palm and wiping it off on a bit of kitchen roll. 

He turns the telly on then, finding an old episode of Top Gear he's got taped on his Sky planner. He ends up curled up on the sofa, jeans half on and half off, willy hanging out and his tail all pink and fluffy and _his_. 

After that, he wears the tails quite a lot when he's at home. Half an hour here, a couple of hours there, pulling tracksuit bottoms up over the top of it so that he's not wandering round his place with his dick out for no good reason. He knows, though, knows with every step and every breath that he's plugged up and wearing a fluffy rabbit tail. Knows every time he stands in front of a mirror and twists round so he can see the little discreet bump of his tail through the material. Knows every time he curls up on his knees with his cheek on his hands to watch the telly or to wank himself off. 

He's a fucked up dickhead with a stupid fucking fantasy, and the fact that even now, even now he's given in and wears one of his tails a lot, it's not enough. It's not what he needs. It's not Nick and Harry, and they're not touching him, and he needs more from it than just this. He needs more. There's this bit of him that doesn't fit in with being a rabbit and doesn't fit in with being a human, this fucking sliver in the middle of his own stupid Venn diagram, and he can't fucking satisfy it. He's driving himself mad trying to. 

They've started to ask if something's wrong too, and he still has no fucking clue how to say _I need something weird from you, and it won't just be a one-off_. He'd rather not say it at all. He can't give them a reason to not want him around. He can't. He hasn't got it in him to manage all these bits of him and keep it together. Those times when he's a tiny bunny, he needs someone to look after him and make sure there's lettuce. He can't open a fridge when he's only the size of a tiny rabbit. And aside from that, it feels different when it's the three of them, when he's a rabbit and they're looking after him. It's not like that when he's like this, when he's human and secretly wanting something else from him. 

It's all too hard, and Louis doesn't know what the fuck to do. He'd slipped away from Nick's earlier, wanged on a bit about having stuff to do at home, and now he's here and by himself, he's got no fucking idea how to spend his afternoon. He can't stop fucking thinking. Going over and over the same stuff: how can he make this go away, how can he stop wanting something he can't ever have, how can he make time for half-measures like pink and white fluffy ears and a collar he's never had the balls to wear. _How, how, how_. 

In the end, he puts in the white fluffy rabbit tail plug in the vague hope it'll centre his racing thoughts, pulls on an old tracksuit, and goes to make a cup of tea. 

He hadn't bargained on the doorbell ringing. He hadn't bargained on Nick and Harry following him home with sandwiches from the bakery at the corner of Nick's road.

"Thought you might want some company," Nick says, wandering inside with Pig on her lead, nosing hopefully at the bag from the bakery.

"Whilst you were doing whatever you were doing that you couldn't do at Nick's," Harry adds, kissing Louis on the cheek once the front door's shut behind them. 

"If you're busy we'll just keep out of your way, though." Nick goes through to the kitchen to put the bag on the counter, already unclipping Pig from her lead. She bounds straight through to the living room, which is her favourite place to be in the whole of Louis's house. She starts nosing around to see what smells different.

"What?" Louis asks a little stupidly. He's wearing a fucking tail plug. It's under his trousers and it's supposed to be discreet, but Louis's spent enough fucking time standing in front of the mirror admiring the little bump where his tail was to know that it's noticeable, if you're looking at his arse. He tries to back into the wall a little. 

"We missed you, idiot," Nick tells him, coming back out and leaning in for a kiss. Louis kisses him back in a perfunctory, vaguely dazed kind of a way. "Don't get enough time together recently, just the three of us. Didn't want to waste a chance."

Harry glances at Nick. "And, um. Well. We kind of wanted to talk, if you had a spare few minutes."

Louis's heart thumps. He's always so fucking certain that he's about to get dumped. He doesn't think the kissing and the sandwiches lend themselves to a break up, but it doesn't stop his racing pulse. "What about?"

"You've seemed a bit preoccupied," Nick says. "A bit quiet, like. Thought we might be doing something wrong."

"No, course not," Louis says quickly. "Everything's fine."

"You're a bit jumpy," Nick says. "You ran out of mine like something was on fire."

Harry touches his arm. "You can tell us, you know. If something's not right. If it's something we're doing. If you're, um—" he stops. "If you don't want to do this anymore. The three of us." He looks sad. "We can figure that out."

"No, no," Louis says. "Like, no. I'm never going to… I'm not going to be the one breaking up with you guys." He's pretty sure he's in this for the long haul, whether he's like this or if he's a tiny rabbit. He's not the one that's going to get tired of a third wheel. 

Harry cocks his head to one side. "You think we're going to break up with you?"

Louis shrugs. "No," he says, but maybe it's obvious that his answer is really a _yes_ , because something shifts in Nick's expression and he leans in to wrap his arms around Louis's shoulders, pulling him in to a tight embrace. 

It's always a bit fucked up when Nick hugs like this, because Nick is a tactile person, always slipping an arm around Louis's shoulders, always bumping elbows and hooking his foot around Louis's ankle, but he's less of a one for the long, meaningful hug. That tends to be Harry's thing. 

"What was that for?"

"Nothing," Nick says. "Just reminding you that we want you around."

"I know," Louis says, but he only knows that half of the time. The other half he's mostly convinced himself that they keep him around because they don't want him to be by himself. 

"Is this what you've been all quiet about?" Nick asks. "Cos you've been quiet. Like, a few weeks now."

"And you're not usually," Harry adds. "Like, when you're not a rabbit."

"I'm fine," Louis says. "It's nothing."

"So it is something, then." Harry makes a face. "Did we do something? Are you, like, not happy or something?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "I'm fine, guys, all right? Look, I'll go make us a tea." He can't remember what it was he said he was going to do this afternoon, but he'll have to think of something. He'd made excuses to leave. Said it was important.

He goes to put the kettle on, and when he turns around, Nick and Harry are standing in the doorway to the kitchen with their heads cocked to one side. 

"Have you, um—" Nick starts, pointing in some general kind of a way at Louis's bum. 

Louis, all of a sudden, remembers the fluffy bunny tail butt plug, and flattens himself back against the sink. "What, no," he says. Then, belatedly, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lou," Harry says. "Um—"

"What is it?" Nick asks, a little more bluntly that Harry tends to go. 

"Nothing," Louis says. "I really am pretty busy this afternoon. You should eat the sandwiches somewhere else." He flips the off switch on the kettle. "Tea's off, too."

Harry holds his hands in the air. "It's fine," he says, a little bit like he's trying to coax a tiny baby rabbit out from behind the sofa, which is a shit analogy when Louis is both the tiny baby rabbit and the fully grown adult with a rabbit tail shoved up his arse. "Like, no one's going to hassle you about anything."

"We're just worried," Nick says. "You're our boyfriend, and you're not yourself."

"When am I myself?" Louis snaps, because he can't flatten himself against the counters any more than he already is, and the only way out of the house is past Nick and Harry, and he wants to go and fucking hide. When he's a rabbit, he can go and fucking hide. "Is it when I'm like this? Or is it when I'm a fucking rabbit and you can take a million pictures of me and put me on the internet?"

"We make sure to get your best side now," Nick says, trying and failing to lighten the mood. Of course Louis has a best side, even when he's a rabbit. He's not a _monster_. He takes a good picture from the left, like a little rabbit king.

"Nick," Harry says, and Louis's glad that someone's said it, because he doesn't feel very much like a rabbit king now. He doesn't feel much of anything, other than scared and upset and lost and like he wants to be fucking looked after. "Don't joke. Don't be upset, Lou. You can talk to us."

Louis shakes his head. "Not about this."

"About anything."

"No." Louis shakes his head again. "It's not okay."

"What isn't?" Nick asks gently. He comes a little closer, and Louis edges a little further into the corner. Nick stops just where he is. "What's not okay, babe?"

"Wanting to be both," Louis says finally, when neither of them are showing any sign of giving up, and Louis wants to take his plug out and fucking burn it. "Sometimes I want to be both."

"Both what?" Harry doesn't move from the doorway. "You want to be both what?"

Louis wants to curl up on the floor and not get up again. "It's a plug," he says finally, because he wants them to go away. He wants his boyfriends to go the fuck away and leave him to his humiliation. "I'm wearing a plug."

There's a pause. "What's wrong with that?" Nick asks. "You can wear one whenever you want. If you'd told us, we would have put it in for you, if you'd wanted. Or it can be just for you, you know? It's okay."

"It's got a tail on it," Louis says. Embarrassment sinks through him, heavy like a lead fucking weight. "It's got a bunny tail on it." 

He says bunny instead of rabbit. He doesn't know which is right. Men don't say bunny, though. They just don't. 

Harry swallows. "Are you wearing it now?" he asks. "Your bunny tail plug?"

"Harry," Louis begs. "Please." Please, please leave this alone. 

"Are you, though?" Nick asks. "Is that—is that what we can see?"

"If I turn around," Louis says miserably. His chest feels tight and horrid. 

"Can we see it properly?" Harry asks. 

Louis shakes his head. "Too embarrassing."

"I don't think it's embarrassing," Nick says. "I think it's hot."

Louis tilts his chin up in bewilderment. "What?"

"You with a little bunny tail," Nick goes on. "It's well hot. I wish you'd let us see it."

"No," Louis says, shaking his head. "You're just going to laugh. I'd laugh. I'd laugh my fucking head off. People want to be like, dragons and shit, all them people buying dog stuff off the internet and being well fierce and all I fucking want is to be some stupid fucking rabbit and have, like, the furry ears and shit, and just be like—I don't know."

"There are ears?" Harry asks. 

Louis frowns. "No. Course not. Stop fucking changing the subject. It's weird. I'm weird. Course I didn't tell you. It's fucked up enough I keep changing into a rabbit, without wanting you to let me pretend I'm one some of the rest of the time too."

"It's not weird," Nick says softly. "Not for us. Seems par for the course with us."

"Shut up," Louis says. "It's not normal."

"Nothing about any bit of our lives is normal," Harry says, after a minute. "Even without this. Like, the rest of it. Our jobs. The three of us. No one else gets to live their dreams like we do. Why can't this just be another part of that?"

"Because it's weird. Because I do have ears. I've got them in the other room. I'd laugh myself stupid if it was anyone else."

"What about if it was me?" Harry asks. "If I told you a secret like this one. Would you laugh?"

"If it was this one," Louis says, even though it's a lie. Difference is, Harry wouldn't ever want anything this fucking weird. "I'd laugh my head off."

"I don't think you would," Harry says. "I think you'd want to give me what I wanted, if you could. If there was a way you could help me, and it didn't hurt you. I think you would."

"Harry," Louis says, and he feels like crying. It's all caught up in his chest, this weird sort of desperate want that he can't let out. "It's weird. It's fucked up."

"We like weird and fucked up," Nick says. He reaches out and touches Louis's elbow, and Louis trembles with it. "Can we see?"

"You'll laugh," Louis says, and he tries to keep his voice from shaking. He's not messing around. He'll break if they laugh. 

"We won't," Nick tells him. His fingertips curl in the curve of Louis's arm, and Louis tries to swallow. "We wouldn't."

"You might."

"No," Harry says. "If it's important to you then we won't laugh."

Louis can't help but lean a little bit into Nick's side, and Nick lets him. "I don't know why it's important," he says finally. "I don't know what it is about it that I need."

Nick leans in and kisses his forehead then. "We love you," he says. "We'll help you figure it out, if you let us."

Louis so, so desperately wants to let them help. He wants to know, wants to figure it out, wants to get what he needs from the people that he loves, but he's so scared. "It's one thing turning into a rabbit. It's another thing, this…" He doesn't know how to even start trying to explain it. 

"Show us," Harry says. "Trust us."

"I do trust you." And he does. He hands them himself on a regular basis, every single time he turns into a rabbit. 

"Well, then," Nick says. "Trust us with this."

Louis turns around then, so that he's leaning against the counter, arse out. He's careful when he pulls his trackies down, lifting them over his tail. He leaves them half way down his thighs. 

He puts his hands on the edge of the counter, staring down at the sink, and tries not to shake. 

"God," Harry says. His voice sounds a little rough. "Can we—it looks amazing, Lou. You look…" he stops, like he and Nick are having another of their silent conversations, the kind Louis can't ever manage with either of them. "It looks really pretty, Louis." 

Louis can't help the noise he makes, a little choked off whine that settles in his throat. 

Nick leans in then, sliding his hand into Louis's hair. His nose brushes Louis's temple. "Can we touch?"

Louis nods. He can't help it. He'd been so scared and so tense, and he still is, standing in his kitchen with his small cock out and his little bunny tail on show. 

Nick kisses his cheek. "So pretty, Louis," he tells him, and how did he know? How did either of them know that that was what he needed? To be pretty? He'd never said. He'd never once said, too scared to even say it out loud. But they'd known. Somehow they'd known. 

Nick's hand strokes down his back, over his t-shirt. When he gets to the hem, his fingertips stroke a circle into the small of his back, pushing the t-shirt up and out of the way, and Louis trembles. Nick's crooked fingers stroke up the line of his back even as Harry touches a finger to his tail. It's a gentle press, hardly anything, but Louis can't help but clench a little around his plug. 

Harry's breath catches. "It moves," he says. "Look, babe, his tail wiggles."

_His tail_. Christ. 

Nick shifts his attention down to Louis's arse. "It does," he says. He's still stroking his fingers down and over Louis's back, then over again. "Such a pretty little rabbit, aren't you?"

Louis doesn't mean to make that noise. It's wrenched out of him. It hurts. 

Harry slides his hands over Louis's hips, holding him still. "Nick's right," he says, pressing his mouth to the back of Louis's neck. "You're such a pretty little rabbit. Our pretty rabbit."

It's that noise again, the one he can't help. 

"Is this right?" Nick asks. His breath is warm against Louis's cheek. They're crowding him against he counter. His trousers are halfway down his thighs. "Is this okay?"

He jerks a _yes_. He's just… he's half way to coming just from standing here, their hands on him. They called him _rabbit_. They called him _theirs_. 

Nick keeps on his stroking his back, but he keeps dipping further and further down until he's touching Louis's tail too, and Louis wants to rock his hips up into Harry's hand, wants to have his dick touched and to come all over Harry's fingers. 

"Touch me," he begs, and Harry kisses him then, sliding his fingers around Louis's dick and starting to wank him off. 

It's Nick kissing him next, Harry's hand on his dick, Nick stroking down over his tail, and it's all too much. It's not there yet, not the whole picture, not that whole overlapping Venn diagram that he's been craving for so long, but it's the best he's ever had, and he loves them. He loves them even though he's on the outside, even though they're the concrete boyfriends and he's the one on the side. Loves them because they're consistently kind to him, because they give him this, because they said yes to giving him what he needed even though it's weird. 

"Such a good rabbit," Nick tells him, mouth pressed to Louis's cheek, and Harry slicks his thumb over the tip of Louis's dick, and Louis starts to come. 

He comes in between one breath and the next, and he hadn't expected it. He hadn't known it was so close. Hadn't known he was as near to the edge as he was. 

Louis closes his eyes, tips his head back, and breathes. 

~*~

It's weird, afterwards. He slips off to wash, and he takes out the plug, cleaning it up and leaving it to dry on the edge of the sink. He cleans his teeth too, for something to do. He dries the plug then, taking it through to the bedroom to put it away. Then he makes sure his trackies are pulled up properly and his t-shirt pulled down, and goes to find Nick and Louis. 

Harry's in the living room with Pig, scratching her so that she pants happily, already curled up on a cushion at Harry's feet. "Nick's making tea," Harry tells him. He's made space on the coffee table and laid the sandwiches from the bakery out on plates. They're baguettes, but he's clearly decided they're going to share, so there are three different types of sandwiches on each plate. 

Louis makes a face. "Are there weird vegetables in there? Secret kale?"

Harry smiles softly, shaking his head. "Not even weird cheese. All guaranteed Louis-proof, promise."

"You like weird stuff," he says, throwing himself on the sofa next to Harry. He colours a little, remembering what they just did, and refuses to look at him. 

Harry leans over to stroke his hand through Louis's hair. "We're good, yeah?"

"Course," Louis says. 

"I love you, you know," Harry says. He pauses. "All of you. All the bits."

Louis thinks about rolling his eyes. There's a large part of him that wants to laugh. He doesn't do either. 

"Lou. Did you hear?"

"Course I did," Louis says. "Just trying to figure out what to say."

"Whatever you want."

Nick comes through with three cups of tea. He puts them down on the table next to the sandwiches, and nudges Louis's knee to make room on the sofa for him to sit down. "You all right?"

Louis nods. "Any chance we can just forget about what just happened?"

Nick makes a face. "I mean… no? Like, we don't have to do it again if you don't want to. If you hated it, or something. But I don't think we can forget about it."

"Did you hate it?" Harry asks. 

Louis stares down at his lap. His sofa's big, with enough room for him to cross his leg and rest his ankle against his knee. "Course I didn't," he says finally. "Course I didn't hate it. I loved it. But it's like the tip of a fucking iceberg, and all of that iceberg is weirder than what we just did, all right? All of it. And I'll deal with it, I'll figure out a way that I can satisfy it by myself, and I won't bring it to you. The really weird stuff. But I just, like, think you're going to know, even if it's not in front of you, that I'm too fucked up. You'll think differently about me. I'll fit differently between you two. I'd rather you just, like, forgot the tip? And then we can just ignore the fucking iceberg."

Nick slips his hand into Louis's. He's not really one for hand holding. It catches Louis unawares. "I think," he says carefully, "I think you're making a pretty big assumption that we wouldn't be interested in the iceberg. And, like, we haven't talked about all the bits of that iceberg. Maybe there are bits that all three of us don't want to do. But maybe, like, there's lots that we do want to do. I'm just, like…" he stops. "I wish you'd give us a chance to find out. I wish you'd trust us."

"It's weird as fuck."

"So?" Harry asks. "We're weird too. And we're a team."

"The tea's getting cold," Louis says. 

"Yeah. But we'll talk about this later, right?"

Louis nods. He's not sure if he means it. He's just sick and tired of bottling it all up. He's not sure he can anymore. 

~*~

They end up bed together, the three of them, curled up in Louis's big bed in just their underwear, the curtains shut so that it's half-dark in the bedroom. It's late afternoon and Pig's had a run around the garden and tired herself out. She's asleep on her cushion in the living room. It's quiet. Phones are banished. Nick at least is twitching at its loss. 

"So," Louis says. "First meeting of the 'how fucked up is Louis' club is going well."

"I think so," Harry says. He's laying on his side facing Louis, his hand to Louis's hip. Nick's behind Louis, his stupid big feet bumping into Louis's. "We're here, aren't we? And we're going to talk."

"We could just have sex," Louis says. 

"We could do that later," Nick suggests, "and still do the talking."

Louis lets out a breath. He's not calm and relaxed like the other two want him to be. He's not much of anything, except frustrated and pissed off and a bit freaked out that Nick and Harry want him to talk about how there's a part of him that wants to be treated like a rabbit sometimes, and he'd really rather like it if there was come involved. 

"So," Harry says. "You've been thinking about some stuff."

"A bit," Louis says. He's trying. He'll lose them if he doesn't try. "Something in the middle. Like, not me normally and not when I'm a rabbit. But a bit in the middle."

"Okay. And that's where the tail comes in?" Nick has slipped a hand around Louis's waist, fingers grazing Louis's stomach. It's nice. It's always nice being touched. It makes him feel better, but he never knows how to ask for it. 

"Sort of," he says. "It's like, um—" he stops. "The tail came afterwards, okay? I wanted this like, um, this feeling, okay, and um, I didn't know how to find it. I didn't know and I just saw those online and I thought they were stupid and it wouldn’t help but it did."

"What sort of feeling, babe?" 

Louis shrugs. He doesn't know how to say it out loud and have it be okay. "When I'm a—when I'm a rabbit, you, like, touch me a lot. And it's okay because people pet rabbits all the time, right? And it's fine. It's just… I think I need that now, too. And I don't know how to get it."

Harry exchanges a look with Nick over the top of Louis's head. "If it's just touching… we can do that."

"It's not though. I mean, it's part of it, right? It's part of it. But it's not all. I like, um." He stops. "I want to feel small, all right? Small and looked after. But it's not even that. I don't think I can explain. There's just this thing that I feel when I'm a rabbit and it's sort of quiet and, I don't know, I am an animal then, right? When I'm like that? So it's not like anything, it just is. But I want to feel like that when I'm like this, and I want to get off feeling like that. And that's it. And I think I need you to treat me a bit like a rabbit to get it. And that's fucking weird."

Harry frowns. "Is it, though? I just… think it's a piece of you and we love you, so. We can try and give you whatever you need."

"I've got ears," Louis says. "I've got a collar and two tails and I don't even know what I'm asking from you, right? I don't know. You're asking me and I don't know."

Nick slips his hand into Louis's, and Louis holds on to it, squeezing. "Would you like it if we tried to figure it out together? We could try stuff. See what you liked. What you wanted us to try more of."

Louis shrugs. He would. He really, really would. 

"Lou?" Harry asks. 

"Yeah," Louis says. "I would. Please."

Nick lets out a breath. "All right, then. And, uh, just so we're on the same page right now, the bit where we call you our pretty rabbit, that's a tick in the _you like it_ column, right?"

Louis gets hard so fast it's all he can do to squeeze Nick's hand. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, that's good."

"You like it when we call you rabbit," Harry says, matter of factly. He lifts the duvet up a little, where Louis's erection can be seen very obviously through his underwear. Louis would be embarrassed, except for the fact that Harry's hard too. "And you really like it when we call you pretty."

Louis tries and fails to stop himself from making a little whining noise. 

"How do you feel about bunny?" Nick asks. He keeps stroking his fingers over Louis's stomach, and Louis knows he's getting harder. _Bunny_. "Do you like that?"

Louis nods, even though it's obvious. 

"And you want us to make you come?" Harry tucks his knee in between Louis's. 

He nods again. 

"When you've been by yourself," Harry goes on, "what have you been doing?"

Louis knows he's gone red. "Just some stuff. Just, like, wanking off, basically."

Nick's still touching his stomach. It's grounding, in its own way. "But it must be a bit different to how you normally wank, love. Right?"

Louis shrugs. "I just kind of like, um, curl up a bit more. On my knees, I suppose? I've watched myself in the mirror, too. Put the plug in. And the ears. I suppose, like, um… I don't clean up. I come all over myself."

"Messy little rabbit, aren't you?" Harry asks, stroking his hair. 

Louis makes a soft little noise in his throat. 

"You like that?" Harry asks. 

Louis nods. He does. 

"Coming everywhere," Harry goes on. "Rabbits don't clean up after themselves, do they?"

"No."

"They might lick themselves, though," Nick adds. "Or lick us clean if they've made a mess of us. You think you might like that?"

Louis tries to hide his face in Harry's neck. 

"Lou."

"Yeah," he says, voice muffled. Harry's stroking his hair. 

There's a pause. There's probably a silent conversation too, but Louis's trying not to listen. 

"Would you like it if we played for a bit?" Nick asks, after a long moment. "You could wear your ears. And your tail, if you wanted."

"You won't laugh?"

"No," Harry says, and Louis trusts him. "You'd be our pretty rabbit."

Louis's dick is leaking little stripes across his underwear. "Messy, too?" 

"If you wanted." 

"I want," he says. 

"And there's a collar, right?"

"I haven't tried it on."

Nick strokes his stomach. "You can if you want to. Or we can leave it for another day."

_Another day_ , Christ. "We could see. See how it goes."

Nick kisses the back of his neck. "Where's your stuff?"

Louis points over towards the wardrobe. "The bag at the bottom."

Nick rolls off the bed then pads over to get the bag, but Harry cups Louis's face in his hands. "Tell us," he says. "If you like something or if it's not right."

Louis nods, and Harry kisses him, tiny butterfly kisses all over his face, and Louis can't help but screw up his nose. 

Harry grins. "Love you," he says, and this time when he kisses him, he covers Louis's mouth with his own. 

Nick takes his pants off before getting back into bed, then Harry shrugs his off awkwardly, like a fish wriggling around on land, then it's just Louis left in his faded black briefs with the little damp patches on the front where he's leaked pre-come across the cotton. 

"Come on," Nick says, stroking his hands down the back of Louis's thighs. "Can't put your tail in if you're still in these." 

"Don't laugh at me," Louis says again, but he pushes down his pants and kicks them off the end of the bed before flopping down on his front and drawing his knees up to his chest so that he's all curled up. "Don't fucking laugh."

"Babe," Nick says, running his hand along the curve of Louis's spine. Louis trembles with it, sliding his hands underneath the pillows so that they can't see him gripping the sheets. "No one's going to laugh. Promise."

Louis nods. He rests his cheek against the pillow. Harry's taken over stroking his hand down Louis's back and over his arse, like he's a real rabbit. Nick's unzipping the bag and getting out the pink and white fluffy ears, the pale blue collar with the little bell, and the two tails. 

"You're our rabbit," Harry says, and it's such a fucking stupid thing to say, such a ridiculous sentence but Louis shivers where he hears it. "You're ours, and we're going to look after you."

Louis closes his eyes. He's embarrassed; it's impossible not to be, but they keep touching him and it feels so good. Nick even scratches his fingers through Louis's hair, and he makes a soft sound of appreciation, so Nick does it again. 

"Always like us scratching between your ears, don't you, love?" he says, and Louis _does_ , he fucking does, but he isn't wearing his bunny ears. He squeezes his eyes shut. "You want your ears, babe?"

Louis doesn't open his eyes. He nods. He's torn between humiliation and wanting it so badly he'll put up with any amount of embarrassment. He's probably sweating. His fingers grip the sheets. 

"Lift your head up, love." 

He doesn't know which one of them slips the Alice band on for him, which one of them adjusts it so that it's sitting right. His eyes are screwed shut. 

"Open your eyes, Lou," Harry says. His hand's in Louis's hair. "Such a pretty bunny, aren't you? So pretty in your ears."

Christ. Fuck. What if they're making fun of him? They're stupid, he knows they're stupid, they're white fluffy ears. They're not that much different to the ones kids wear at Easter, except much more expensive, and he'd bought them to come in. 

"So pretty," Nick says, and he crooks his finger to stroke Louis's cheek. "You okay?"

"I know they're stupid," he says, and his voice comes out a little cracked. "I know I look like an idiot."

Nick shakes his head. He ducks in to press a kiss to the corner of Louis's mouth. "Pretty," he says. "Look, love. You're worrying over nothing. Look at my dick, babe." Louis steals a glance towards Nick's crotch. He's hard as anything. Louis's mouth waters a little. He loves sucking dick. Normally, at least—right now he doesn't make any move to beg for it. "You think I can fake that? You think Harry can?" 

Louis shifts his attention to Harry, but he's hard too. 

"You think we don't like giving you what you need?" Harry asks softly. "You think we don't want to make you happy? You think you don't turn us on just by being you?"

Louis shrugs. Nick runs his fingers through Louis's hair again, and even though he can't feel him touching the ears, he knows they're being touched because the Alice band shifts a little. "It's weird."

"Loads of people like weirder stuff," Nick says. He keeps touching him. Harry's hand is on his back, fingers splayed. "All you're asking of us is to look after you when you're a rabbit, real or otherwise."

What's real and what isn't is fucked up in Louis's head. "Want you to make me feel small," he says, instead of any of the other things that are floating around, refusing to be spoken. 

"Small like humiliated, or small like tiny?" Nick asks. 

"Small like tiny," Louis says. He feels the other, but it's not the goal. He wants to be small, like he exists in a space that's not the same as the one he normally inhabits. When he's not in this sliver of a Venn diagram space, he wants to be larger, for his personality to expand out to fill the space, to be the focus of attention. Right now he wants to be the focus in a whole other way, like the world's smaller and his attention is focused inwards and not outwards. He doesn't know how to explain that. The only thing he's got is _small_. 

"All right," Harry says, like all of this isn't layering up into something extra-specially weird. "We can do that." He pauses. "You ready for your tail yet?"

He lets out a small squeak at that. "Yeah," he says. "Please."

"Pink one all right?" Nick asks, holding it up. "Pretty little thing, this, isn't it? Just the right amount of pretty for our little rabbit."

Louis lets out a ragged breath. He wants to say _thank you thank you thank you_ but he can't. He buries his face in his hands instead, and stays right there even as Nick and Harry touch his hole, both of them grazing their fingertips over it so that he shivers. The lube comes afterwards, squeezed out so that it starts to run down his crack and they have to catch it on their fingertips, one or other of them slipping the tip of their finger inside of him so that he whimpers. He loves being fingered, always has done, and they're gentle and slow with him, their hands bumping into each other as they both have a finger inside of him. 

"Think you're ready," Nick tells him later, when Louis's so far past ready he's started to forget his name. The plug rests for a moment against his rim, nobody pushing it in, and Louis tries to wriggle backwards onto it, so desperate for it he doesn’t care how wanton he looks. 

"Imagine what he'll look like with his tail in," Harry says, voice a little rough, "and he wriggles like that."

"Proper little bunny," Nick agrees, and Louis whines into his hands. 

"Think our little rabbit wants his tail." 

Louis can't think about anything else. His dick bumps against his stomach. 

When they slide the plug inside of him, it presses in with an almost familiar stretch, and he loves it. He loves it. The fluffy tail rests against his bum, a little ticklish, and he wriggles with it, settling into it with a long breath. For a moment he almost forgets that Nick and Harry are there with him, that they're watching him. 

"Our little Louis rabbit," Nick says, almost in wonder, and Louis shifts his legs a little further apart so that the plug moves a bit, clenching then letting go. He knows the fluffy tail is moving a bit, he can feel it. "Stop hiding your face behind your paws, babe. We want to see you."

_Paws_. His dick pulses. He hadn't even—he hadn't considered it. Not for a second. He bites on his lip to keep from crying out, hiding his hands back under the pillows. 

"That okay?" Nick asks. 

Louis nods his _yes_. He hadn't imagined anything beyond his tail and his ears. Little paws, though. He sort of stops hiding them so much, and Nick runs his thumb over the back of one of his hands. 

"That's right," Harry says, dropping a kiss to Louis's back before running his hands over his skin, like he's petting him. "Little paws, Lou." He kisses the back of Louis's neck before sliding his hands into Louis's hair. "Little bunny ears." He scritches Louis behind his ears, then strokes his hands back down over Louis's back and down over his arse. "Little fluffy bunny tail."

"Little rabbit," Nick adds, kissing Louis's shoulder. "Just like you wanted?"

It's framed like a question and Louis nods quickly, trying to bury his face in the crook of Nick's neck. He rubs his chin over Nick's shoulder. He can't make him smell like Louis, not like this, but he can pretend. 

Nick holds him there with a hand to his shoulder blades, thumb stroking him over and over again. 

"Want us to make you come?" It's Harry asking, hands to Louis's bum, touching him everywhere, down to his thighs and up again. 

Louis nods his _yes_. He doesn't want to talk right now and he maybe should have expected it, this tiny space he's trying to create for himself being endlessly quiet as well as small. 

Harry slips a hand down over Louis's hip, curving around until he's scritching Louis a little, short nails catching in Louis's pubes. He kisses Louis's shoulder. "You little there too?"

Louis continues to hide his face. Nick has one hand on his back and the other in his hair, moving up to stroke his rabbit ears and then down to run his fingers through his hair. 

"Yeah," Louis manages, voice soft and a little croaky. "Small everywhere."

"Such a good little rabbit," Nick tells him, stroking his hair. "Such a good, pretty little rabbit, Louis." 

Louis wants to sob with it. His eyes feel wet. 

Harry circles the base of his dick with his fingers. "Such a little rabbit," he tells Louis, voice gruff. "With such a little dick." He sounds so careful, like they're both being careful with him, like he's something to be taken care of. 

It feels like there are butterflies in his chest, a mountain of them, fluttering breathlessly up against his rib cage, over and over. 

Louis sobs his _yes_ into Nick's shoulder, and Nick holds him so carefully, never letting him go, and Harry touches him, wrapping his fingers around Louis's dick and playing with him gently, stealing the slick from his tip and stroking it down his length. Harry swaps hands after a minute, wrapping him up in lube-slick fingers until he's wet with it, until he's panting and breathless against Nick's shoulder. Then Harry starts playing with his tail, pressing his thumb beneath the fluff to the base of the plug, and Louis rocks his dick up into Harry's fist. 

"That's right, Louis," Nick tells him. "Show us how much you want this. Show us how good a little rabbit you are."

He whimpers, but he rocks his hips up, his dick slippery in Harry's loose fingers. He fucks into Harry's fist even as Harry's playing with Louis's tail, even as Nick's stroking his ears, and Louis wants to be a good little rabbit more than anything else he can think of in the whole fucking world. He wants to come like this, plugged up and caught between Nick and Harry, small and little and good and looked after. 

"Are you going to make a mess, little rabbit?" Nick goes on. "Come all over yourself like a naughty little rabbit?"

Louis makes a concertinaed kind of a noise, burying his face in Nick's shoulder again. He can't find anything to say; it's like his words are missing. 

"Come all over Harry's hand and you'll have to lick him clean," Nick says, hand in his hair, stroking him. "Won't he, Haz?"

"Yeah," Harry says. He sounds a little breathless. "Messy little rabbits have to clean up after themselves." He tightens his grip on Louis's dick a little, just for a moment. "Such a little dick on such a little rabbit, Lou."

Louis can't breathe. He's pretty sure he's crying, but he can't remember when he started. He squeezes his eyes shut, breathless and panting. He just wanted to be small and little and looked after, and to feel like _this_ , like a rabbit. They called them his _paws_. He's got a tail and ears and he's got Nick and Harry, and they're touching him over and over, everywhere he needs to be touched. Petted and stroked and treated like he's a bunny. Paws and a tail and ears and stroked like he's a rabbit. He rubs his chin over Nick's skin again, pressing his nose to Nick's neck. 

"Our little rabbit," Nick tells him, and it settles on Louis like a second skin. "Our rabbit, Lou. Our little bunny rabbit."

He comes, breathless, pulsing all over Harry's hand and his thighs. He comes, comes like he's their little rabbit, like there's a space for him between them and he fits. Like it's okay.

Like he's okay. 

He stays there until he remembers how to breathe again.

Afterwards, he curls up on his side with his knees up and his back flush to Nick's chest. Nick's dick rubs up against the back of his thighs, but Louis focuses on licking Harry's hand clean, little bunny licks that taste like lube and come and this odd kind of submission that rests, feather-like, in his chest. Harry's other hand rests in his hair, holding him close, and Louis is messy and no one's wiped him up and he doesn't want them to. His face is tear-stained and his stomach a mess of lube and come. His dick rests against his thighs, soft and small. 

"You're so good," Harry tells him, over and over. His hand is wet with Louis's saliva, and he wipes it on the sheet before cupping Louis's cheek. "So good, Louis."

Louis drops his gaze first. His heart pounds. 

Nick touches his fingers to Louis's throat. "Do you want to try your collar, love? It's okay if you don't. We can do it a different time."

Louis struggles to find words. He wants it, but he's scared. He doesn't know how it's going to make him feel. He quivers. 

"We can do it another time."

"No." He shakes his head, resting his cheek against Harry's hand again. "Want it."

"Think you'll look amazing in it," Harry says. "Think you look amazing now."

It's ears and a tail and it's probably wrong but right now it doesn't feel like it. He smiles instead, soft and slow, just a little rabbit. Nick's rolled away, coming back with the pale blue collar with its little bell. It makes a little tinkling noise. 

Nick kisses his throat. "We'll always know where you are now," he says, kissing that little patch of skin behind his ear, where the Alice band rests. "We'll be able to hear your little bell and come find you."

Louis trembles. He's worn his tail around the house a little, wanking on the sofa and wearing it under his trousers when he's been by himself, but not—not this. "You could make me crawl," he says, ducking his gaze from Harry's. 

"We could," Nick agrees. He's unbuckling the collar. It's got a soft, pale blue inner to it. Louis isn't exactly an expert in collars. He'd picked the one that looked the softest and the prettiest. Louis tilts his chin up, ready. 

"I saw a lady walking a rabbit in Notting Hill," Harry says. "Had it on a lead."

Louis's heart pounds. 

"Might be nice to have a pet rabbit on a lead round the house," Nick says. "If you were up for it sometime."

He nods. Just—it feels like too much. Or maybe not enough? It's all a mess in his head. They could hold his lead in their hands and he could wait on a cushion at their feet and sleep with his cheek rested against his paws and his tail in. Just a little sleepy rabbit. 

Maybe it's something they can talk about later. 

He focuses on Nick slipping the collar around his neck instead, buckling it closed. The bell chimes as Louis shifts in Nick's arms, moving a little just so that Nick can take a better look. 

"God," Harry says. "You look amazing."

Louis blinks. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Nick agrees. He strokes his fingers over the collar. "Yeah, beautiful."

"So glad you shared this with us," Harry tells him. 

Louis knows he's going pink. He's wearing a _collar_. "I haven't made either of you come," he says instead. 

"Do you want to?" Nick raises an eyebrow. "It's okay if you don't. We'll just wank off all over you, if you want that."

Louis lets out a little sigh of relief. His head feels a bit upside down and all over the place. He'd rather they just made him messy. He nods. 

Harry smiles at him. "You okay if we come on you? Make a mess of our rabbit?"

"Please."

He feels kind of weird, wearing his collar and his tail and his ears as he lays in between the two of them with their dicks out. He has to rest on his hip so that he's not laying on the tail plug, but he's sleepy and sated and for the first time in ages, decidedly not stressed out. It's especially nice when Nick and Harry keep on touching him as they wank off, touching his nipples and his collar and his cheek and his hair. It's probably weird, wanting to be touched so much, but he hasn't got the energy left to be embarrassed enough to tell them to stop. It's nice that they've realised he needs it, even when he can't ask for it, and his skin feels hot underneath their fingers. 

"You look so pretty," Harry tells him, and Louis can tell he's getting close, his cheeks flushed and his hand fast on his dick. "Such a pretty little rabbit."

Louis preens with it, the compliment settling warm and happy in his chest. He bites his lip to keep from smiling, and Nick strokes his thumb over Louis's bottom lip until Louis licks it. 

"Going to make you so messy," Nick says. "Going to make such a messy rabbit of you."

"Please," Louis begs, and Harry starts to come, striping Louis's stomach with it, making a mess of him. Louis strokes his fingers through it, making more of a mess, and maybe there's something about watching Louis like this that tips Nick over the edge, because it's barely thirty seconds before Nick's coming too, all over Louis's dick and his hand and his stomach. 

It feels good. It feels right. He feels happy. 

Nick leans down to kiss him, still breathless, still flushed. He cups Louis's cheek in his hand and covers Louis's mouth with his own. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Louis says. "More than okay. You?"

"The best," Nick says. He settles back next to Louis on the bed, arm behind his head. He strokes at Louis's nipple with his other hand, only pausing when Harry leans over to kiss Nick, then Louis. 

"I'm good too," Harry says, and Nick rolls his eyes. 

"We know," he says, but it's teasing, and it's easy for Harry to flop back on the sheets next to them and to press a kiss to Louis's bicep. 

"You want the plug out?"

"In a minute," Louis says. "I'm all right for now."

"Good," Harry says, and bumps his elbow into Louis's. "Because we're going nowhere."

Maybe they'll nap after this, Louis curled up in between them, still messy, still with his collar on, still their little rabbit for a bit longer. 

Maybe they'll get back up and go back to business as usual and it'll all be a bit weird as Louis tries to figure out where this fits in with the rest of his life. 

Maybe, maybe not. There are a lot of maybes, but for once, they don't feel terrifying. They feel like it might be okay, like Louis's safe even though he's a bit weird, like he's loved, and he loves back, and it's all going to be kind of okay. 

He smiles, and Nick smiles back, and Harry buries his face in Louis's neck and holds on.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://magicalrocketships.tumblr.com/tagged/you're%20a%20rabbit%20louis)


End file.
